All At Once
by ScruffyLovin
Summary: It is in this moment that Sam realizes how special this thing between her and Jack is—how valuable and real. Firemanverse.


**Summary: **It is in this moment that Sam realizes how special this thing between her and Jack is—how valuable and real.

**Timeframe: **Firemanverse, Season 6, "The Changeling."

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Drama, Angst, Romance, Fluff

**Rating:**T

**All At Once**

She lies awake in the aftermath of their lovemaking, her naked body half-sprawled across his. Her head is on his chest, below his chin, her right cheek pressed against coarse chest hair, and one of his callused hands is slowly tracing up and down her spine. It is in this moment that Sam realizes how special this thing between her and Jack is—how valuable and real—because in her past few and far between relationships, she's never let another man hold her like this—post-coital or otherwise. Because Jack is far more important to her than any other man has been or will be, and that means something. It means something big.

The value of their relationship is punched home three weeks later when Sam slips up. She lets her feelings bleed out all at once, for everyone to see.

She's off-duty for the next two days, at home, lounging on her couch and getting lost in a book when her radio crackles to life. Sam knows she doesn't need to keep it on, or even with her, when she's not on call, but it's become a habit. She wants to know what's going on with her guys when she's not there to watch their backs. When she's not there to watch _his _back.

Sam doesn't realize how quickly she loses control when she hears the news that one of the rigs tipped over on the way back from a house fire. Three of the guys from Engine 1—_her guys—_are injured and being taken to County Hospital.

She drops everything and goes. She doesn't even know if Jack was one of the injured men, she just leaves without locking the door, turning off any lights, or even marking her last page in the book she's reading.

At the hospital she finds T standing in the waiting room still in full turnout gear. He's pacing, staring at the floor, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. T lifts his head as she approaches anxiously. He gives her a confused look.

"Sam, what are you doing here?"

"I had my radio on," she says hastily, surprised at how breathless she is. "Heard the rig tipped and some of the guys got hurt. Who—?" Sam needs to know, but she can't ask for _him_ specifically.

T's lips thin, his face creasing into a frown. "Ah, Pro—_Jonas_, Harper, and O'Neill."

Her throat feels tight, making it hard to breathe. She glances towards the exam room window, but doesn't see anybody because of the curtains. "How bad?"

T scruffs his boot against the floor and shifts his weight. "Nothing serious. Harper's got a dislocated shoulder and concussion, Jonas has a few scrapes and some bruised ribs, and O'Neill—"

Sam doesn't wait for him to finish. She catches sight of a nurse coming out from behind a curtain, and there's a flash of silver hair from the patient within. She dashes into the room without preamble and pulls the curtain aside.

"Carter?" He's confused, surprised to see her.

All she sees is that he's sitting up with a fresh, neat row of stitchwork above his left eyebrow, but appears no more worse for wear. He's fine, she tells herself. Jack's fine. And then she falls apart.

Sam rushes forward as he stands, until they're inches apart. Then she slows down, gingerly winding her arms around him, one arm over his shoulder, the other under, fingers clenching in his white undershirt. The other hand reverently clutches at the nape of his neck as she buries her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"Sam?" He sounds worried. There's even a tinge of alarm in his tone.

She doesn't know why this is the moment that has broken her in this way—she doesn't care. She doesn't even care that Harper and Quinn are just a few curtains away. If they're conscious, they can hear everything. But it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is _him_. Alive. Breathing. Real.

"Sam?" Jack tries again. She doesn't blame him for pressing; she hasn't said a word.

"_I'm sorry," _she whispers into his shoulder. Her hand squeezes the back of his neck. "I had to be sure—" Sam doesn't finish, but she knows he understands. It's part of what makes this _thing _between them so special.

Jack tilts his head and breathes into her neck, placing a soft kiss there. "I was gonna call you. For a ride."

She feels him smile against her warm skin. "T's here."

"He's gonna give the probie a ride home. Harper's stuck here overnight."

"And you?"

"You're takin' me home."

"Am I?" she teases, her breath a little shaky, voice forcefully light.

He leans back slowly with a nod, and she reluctantly lets him go. He picks up his uniform shirt from the bed, and she gets his turnout coat. They tug the curtain out of the way and walk out of the exam room side by side, passing T on the way out.

They go back to his place, and after a quick shower, Jack sits with her on the couch, and they watch TV. They don't talk about how irrationally scared she was, the value of this thing between them, or how she broke; how she let everything come to the surface. They don't need to talk about it, because it's already been said without words. Jack falls asleep with his head on her shoulder, and she breathes a little easier with him here beside her.

Sam knows she loves him without having to say a word, and that Jack loves her just the same. She knows they'll weather through the rough times as well as the good times, and when it's his turn to break—for whatever reason—she'll be there. Alive. Breathing. Real. Because what they have is special. It is valuable, and meant to last.

-The End-


End file.
